The Po Show

And That's a Wrap

Well slap my ass and call me Charlie, I did it! I actually made it through NaBloPoMo!! I was doing it for no one but myself, since I'm not "officially" registered with the site (or whatever one does to be universally recognized as a member of this whole deal), but I'm pretty stoked that I pulled it off.

It was actually fun, and an interesting exercise in self-discipline. There are not many things I do everyday that don't involve fetching meals and snacks for my kids, shopping, or showering. It was a mental task to keep "Gotta blog!!" up in the accessible reaches of my subconscious, each and every day.

Last month I talked about myself as a writer, then I spent each day of this month writing, if only a little (okay, I phoned it in a bit during the last week, but mostly I really did try and write something of substance each day!). I've given thought to myself as myself, different aspects of which I don't always give much thought. I often spend most of my time thinking of myself as a mother, particularly as a mother to the specific children I gave birth to, but this month I looked a little more at who I am beyond that. I'm Asian American, I'm a woman growing older (with a body in revolt, and it's pretty revolting), I'm a person who loves art and history and the big marble buildings in our nation's capital.

I was telling my mother on the phone about all the weight I've put on, and she said it didn't surprise her, because she always thought that I look like my aunt Yuko, who gained a lot of weight as she got older. How odd to hear that I take after an aunt I've only seen a handful of times in my life. She lives in Japan, along with all of my father's siblings who are still alive, and their many children and grandchildren. The last time I saw her, when she and my uncles flew to CA for my father's funeral, I did see a resemblance (I was still very thin then, this being 14 years ago). As we sat next to each other at the airport, as they were preparing to leave, I told her in my very halting Japanese that I was sorry that I couldn't speak Japanese well enough to talk to her. It was okay, she told me (I understand the language much better than I speak it), the feeling was there. I knew just what she meant, that we were linked by feeling, by family. We were a part of each other.

I'm still thinking about the parts of me that have gotten short shift in the last several years, as mommyhood has taken up all my time and energy. This month helped with that. I'll keep pondering, and writing, in the days and months and years to come. Do we ever completely figure ourselves out? I don't think so, but I'm going to keep trying.